


Love

by 3sti



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Aromantic, Canon Compliant, Gen, aroace Miya Atsumu, inner turmoil
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-26
Updated: 2020-11-26
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:47:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27717698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/3sti/pseuds/3sti
Summary: Atsumu doesn’t need memories. He needs this to last.
Relationships: Miya Atsumu & Miya Osamu, background Miya Osamu/Suna Rintarou
Comments: 13
Kudos: 106





	Love

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I didn't dare to write them speaking non-standard dialect. I'm a coward.
> 
> I had an aroace Atsumu agenda wip for months, but then ep8 came out and it made me feel... feels... so it turned into this. The labels are only implied but I'm stating it here: Atsumu is aromantic and asexual in this one.
> 
> Thank you [Laburnum](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laburnum26) for divine intervention and beta-ing!

There are a lot of things you can see from the back of the court if you look hard enough. The position of the receivers -- so you can aim your serve for the nasty spots. The form of the spikers and the position of the blockers -- so you can be in the right place for a receive or a follow-up. The way Osamu looks at Suna -- Atsumu decides not to say anything about it.

He should have expected something like this to come. Now that he thinks about it, the two have been attached by the hip ever since they became classmates this year. And it’s not like he didn’t know that Osamu liked boys -- he still remembers every word of that conversation, after a practice match in their first year.

“You have literal fangirls, I’m so jealous!” Ginjima said while they were cleaning up. Atsumu’s ears were still ringing from the cheers, and the band wasn’t even there.

“They’re annoying, you can have them.”

Atsumu wished they didn’t make a noise while he was serving. He was kind of regretting bleaching his hair, because now the girls were screaming _Atsumu_ or _Osamu_ instead of _Miya-kun_ \-- he should have been happy that people acknowledged him now, and that there were just a bit more girls cheering for him than for his twin. Somehow the only thing he felt was irritation.

"If you're like this to them you won't get a girlfriend," Ginjima sighed, and didn’t understand why the twins looked at him as if he had said something ridiculous.

"We don't even care about girls," Atsumu waved with his hand. He thought about his jump floater that went way out of bounds -- he needs to practice his control. "We're focused on volleyball, dude."

 _We_ , because they always did everything together.

"We're into boys," Osamu said at the same time.

 _We_ , because they were still two parts of a whole, even if they dyed their hair different colors so people could tell them apart.

Except, this time Atsumu didn’t feel like it was a _‘we’_ thing -- liking boys. He was so focused on volleyball (and Osamu too, he knows because they were together for most of it; he knows because Osamu didn’t deny that) that he didn’t even consider it. But maybe that was it, maybe he just hadn’t considered it yet. But that would explain why he only ever found girls irritating. Boys were much better: he could have a proper conversation with them and he could play volleyball with them, and that’s what’s the most important for him.

After that Atsumu sometimes noticed Osamu looking just a tad bit too long at boys, from the bleachers, or while someone wiped the sweat off his face with his shirt (and _oh my god is that a six pack?!?_ \-- Atsumu can appreciate a good build when he sees it) and he quickly got used to that. Then he forgot about the whole thing just as fast.

But this time it goes on for weeks, and it’s not like Osamu is only enjoying the view. Osamu knows Suna prefers melonpan over anpan and he _always_ watches the videos Suna sends him, even when they’re total bullshit. Atsumu comes to the conclusion that this must be a crush.

And it’s reciprocated -- he knows this before Osamu does. That too, he notices during practice. And he’s not the only one. As soon as math ends, Ginjima is in front of him and yells, “Let’s make a bet!”

Atsumu just wants to eat lunch in peace. “Bet on what?”

“On who confesses first, obviously!”

Oh. Atsumu didn’t think about the situation that far ahead.

“Who confesses? Atsumu has a crush?” the guy sitting in front of him turns to them, apparently having overheard only the wrong parts of the conversation.

“Nah, who has time for that,” Atsumu furrows his eyebrows. He certainly doesn’t feel like he needs to waste energy on dating when he can do a bajillion of other fun things.

“Didn’t Nakamura from Class 3 confess to you the other day? She’s such a beauty!”

She did confess to him last week. She told him how handsome and strong he was. And of course, Atsumu was glad his skills and strength were acknowledged by someone, but that was as far as it went. He never cares about who says it, and he already knows anyway.

“I rejected her,” he says. He didn’t even need to think about it when he did.

Atsumu wonders how Osamu or Suna would go about a confession. He sure hopes it wouldn’t be like whatever he had experienced so far, or what he saw in the movies their mother likes to watch on the weekend. Those are so terrible he’s kind of losing his faith in humanity sometimes. Shouldn’t the point be to make the other be interested in you? Not one thing in romance movies has ever done it for him.

Atsumu would have to at least disown Osamu if he said some cheesy line with a serious face. Well, Suna is weird as hell and likes humour like that, but Atsumu would die from secondhand embarrassment just thinking about it. He thanks the gods Osamu isn’t very expressive because he would have murdered him.

He isn’t very expressive but Atsumu knows how to read him -- they are twins after all. The smallest twitch of his brow when Atsumu says something to rile Osamu up, and he knows it’s only just getting started. The small crinkles in the corner of his eyes at the end of a really close game, when he knows exactly how he’s going to score the next one (Atsumu loves to give the ball to someone else at that time, just to mess with him). Most of these are subtle, Osamu only really losing his filter when he’s scoring real good or when he’s on a mission to murder his own brother. He doesn’t do ‘glad’ or ‘sad’ or ‘wishful’, but his voice is just a tiny bit softer when he tells Atsumu how they were doing their social studies group assignment together. Atsumu wants to punch him -- what is he so soft for? It’s just homework.

“So… Suna?” He simply asks, but his irritation comes through, making it sound more like an accusation.

Atsumu doesn’t even know how to approach the topic. He doesn’t know about half smiles, soft voices, waiting to eat lunch together, and wanting.

“Yeah, Suna,” is all Osamu offers, and Atsumu grits his teeth because it comes so easily for him. Atsumu doesn’t get any of it.

It’s probably the first time he feels like he doesn’t understand his twin at all.

Atsumu knows about love from the cheesy movies, from the confessions, from his classmates, and in theory he knows how it goes. Ginjima said it too: pining, and confession, and dating. It really seems like the only logical outcome. It’s just--

Atsumu had his whole life figured out by the end of middle school, and Osamu getting a boyfriend wasn’t part of the plan. The plan was to win Nationals, to go pro right after graduation, to play at the Olympics, and at some point, to beat the shit out of his twin.

Now the plan seems like a delusion and Atsumu realises that he didn’t even consider some things that seem fundamental to others. He only thought about himself and Osamu together, but now there is also Osamu and Suna together -- or there will be, and now that he thinks about it, stuff like this seems important to others. They can’t shut up about it, as if it was the meaning of life or something.

For Atsumu, it has always stayed at the periphery of his attention. He has always been content with volleyball and its possibilities: an endless room to grow, countless ways to win, and so many people to defeat. He could never give up the thrill of the game entering into a deuce, the control over the ball or the game that took him years to establish and master. He simply knows that there’s no ‘him’ without the game. And when he already loves something so much, he never thought he would need to love something (or someone) else, too. 

For sixteen years, Atsumu never had a crush like everyone else. He doesn’t want to think that it will come later. He doesn’t want to think about the grandchildren their parents must want, or about the secret crushes his classmates want to hear about.

He shuts down this train of thought, because when has he ever cared about what others thought. Instead, he puts even more effort into volleyball.

It pays off: he gets an invitation to the Youth Training Camp. He thinks, _“Hah! I won! I told you all I’m the better one!”_ He tries to ignore the disappointment that Osamu isn’t invited. It’s strange to the both of them how calm Osamu is about it. The words “you love volleyball just a bit more than me” echo in his head. Atsumu doesn’t dare to think about what it could mean.

Instead, he decides to enjoy the victory over his twin. He meets the strongest in the nation, all monsters who have the same passion as him. (Him. Not them.) He gets to set to the best spikers in the country, he finds a formidable opponent whom he pisses off the first time they speak, and he gets even better. He can’t wait to go pro and play where everyone is this good and this hooked on volleyball.

(When he gets home he realises that Osamu was doing fine, too. And of course he was, Suna was there, after all. Atsumu wonders what will happen when one of them mans up and confesses.)

They go to Nationals feeling invincible and learn the school motto again the hard way. Overconfidence and unpolished techniques won’t bring victory. Still, they play the best volleyball ever and Atsumu is left with hunger for even more, and for getting even better. (He’s just a bit irritated that what Osamu said about rice sticks with him.) When he becomes captain he teaches the team the same hunger.

After that it doesn’t take long until Suna and Osamu finally confess, and Atsumu is surprised by how barely anything changes. Suna’s turn spikes are still vicious, his blocking is just as good as always, and Osamu is still _there_. And, really, Atsumu should have known (and it’s scary that he hasn’t). After all, neither Osamu nor Suna are the type to really show emotions or do PDA. After all, Osamu is still his jackass brother, his twin, and they were always just there for each other; they can’t be separated so easily. Not by something like this, Atsumu thinks, even if this is something new and he doesn’t know what to do about it.

"I'll quit volleyball after high school," Osamu says at the end of winter. They get into a huge fight about it.

He won't say it -- he won't think it -- but Atsumu is afraid. This isn't what he had planned. They were both supposed to play volleyball, together, like they always have. Instead, Osamu is dreaming about food and Suna, and Atsumu has no idea what a life like that looks like but deep down he feels that Osamu will make it work. Atsumu doesn't know what volleyball without Osamu would look like, either, and he isn't sure how to make it work.

Now they have only one year left, and then the unknown. Atsumu doesn’t need memories. He needs this to last.

Atsumu almost misses a set when he thinks about the stakes during practice, and he needs Osamu kicking him in the ass to get his head back in the game. It’s seriously bad. He watches Osamu and Suna together -- jumping together, shoulders bumping, hands lingering on the other’s back, whispering to each other while waiting for a serve, and he feels like he’s incredibly far away from them. Because they are kind of a set now, and he stands in the back alone and Osamu decided on a completely different future, and -- God, will Atsumu die alone?

It’s not like he doesn’t know that he’s an asshole and most people who spoke to him hate his guts. He just didn’t really care about it, and he didn’t need to, because he is the best setter one can find in the entire prefecture, or even in the whole country, so they put up with him as long as they can win. Because he didn’t need people to like him when he always had Osamu.

Atsumu has never been alone in his life.

It’s funny how he craved to be different and separate but when it becomes reality he feels like something is ripped out of him. (Different hair dye -- but still the same style; different positions -- but still in the game together; more skilled -- but only because the other is menacingly close and could take over any time; different careers -- different careers…)

When Atsumu thinks about it, there were signs. The first bento Osamu made, and how he tried again and again until the sausage octopuses looked decent, until the texture of the tamagoyaki was better than what their grandmother could make. It seemed to be an innocent hobby on the side that Osamu sometimes did on the weekend and Atsumu got free food as a result of it (he hates that it was _good_ ). He was always talking about eating, too. It was all there in front of him, Atsumu just never considered they could be really _that_ different.

He considers Osamu’s slight smile when he prepares food or when he talks to Suna. Atsumu considers his own when he’s playing volleyball and forgets about everything else.

After the Summer Interhigh, Suna announces that he'll go pro and Atsumu sees it as an opportunity. Deep down he knows it’s futile, but he’s desperate.

"Can't you convince him or something?"

"Atsumu," Suna starts, looking him dead in the eye. "How would you react if he said 'hey, why don't you quit volleyball and work for me?'"

Atsumu has to admit it doesn’t sound good when Suna puts it like that.

"But that's different! I can't cook for my life but he's--"

_He's the only one who could always keep up with me. Who was always there._

Atsumu goes back to practice because there’s no way he’ll lose to Osamu. He starts to accept the fact that he has to really rely on other spikers (because God knows he only ever tries new and stupid things with his twin), to really try to get on the same wavelength as them, to give more and ask for more. It’s a challenge and he knows it will make him stronger, so he rises to it. When he makes his spikers achieve things they never did before, it feels exhilarating.

But he can’t live with himself outside of volleyball. Or by himself. And it seems to be so easy for Osamu to build a whole life outside of it -- chopping vegetables evenly, no longer tearing up from cutting onions, smiles that Atsumu can’t understand, a hand reaching out for Suna’s, swollen lips.

He tries not to envision Osamu in a stupid apron, or cooking for Suna, or whatever. He tries to think about how it felt when the new first years started to really trust his tosses. When they became stronger and could hit them even better. Or when he can look at the condition of his spikers and he can select whom he should use for the best outcome. When they execute a play just like he envisioned it.

Then he loses sleep thinking over why he isn’t thinking about someone precious to him, too. It kind of feels like he’s already losing to Osamu, even though they didn’t really start their own journeys yet.

“What the hell are you staying up late for anyway?” Osamu asks him when the bags under his eyes become visible. “We have Nationals in a few weeks.”

Atsumu almost laughs at that. How pathetic is it that Osamu is more focused on it than he is? (He tries not to think about how it’s their last time playing together.) “Just thinking…”

“I didn’t know you were capable of that.” Atsumu throws his pillow at Osamu.

“It just kinda feels like I’m already losing to you, when I’m clearly not. I hate it,” he admits begrudgingly.

“You _are_ losing, I got all the looks and brains,” Osamu says, because addressing a topic like normal people is not something either of them is capable of.

Atsumu retorts, because when did he ever allow other people to talk shit about him. Even if it’s not on topic and he just wants to feel miserable and sleepy. “Bullshit, I totally have more fans!”

“Since when do you even care?”

True, he doesn’t. He even thinks they’re annoying. It’s still a good ego boost though, when people acknowledge his skills. “I’m just saying that they recognize who the stronger twin is.”

“You’re not stronger, you’re just insane.”

“Huh?! I’m clearly better, don’t try to sugarcoat your defeat with bullshit like this.”

“Anyway,” Osamu cuts him short, apparently having had enough of this. He throws the pillow back at Atsumu. “What’s this about, ‘Tsumu?”

Well, fuck. Now they’re talking. And they never _talk_. They either fight or they just _know_. Atsumu hadn’t even expected to get here.

“I-- just how you… and why I--”

“Why did you even start if you aren’t going to say anything sensible,” Osamu sighs.

Atsumu was repressing these thoughts for so long that he can barely put them in order.

“I mean… isn’t love supposed to be… for everyone, or something? Or like, the whole point of life, pinnacle of happiness and whatever? Everyone says so…”

“Since when do you care about anyone?”

“Well…”

_Since somehow everyone has it. Love, and a special someone. You have it, and you’re doing just fine._

_I don’t have either and not even you. Do I look fine to you?_

He doesn’t say it though. He knows it sounds like bullshit -- it’s still how he feels.

“Aren’t you happy with volleyball?”

The tingling feeling in his fingertips. The calluses on his hand. The thrill of a long rally. Oh, Atsumu loves volleyball so much.

“Of course I am.”

“Then what the hell is your problem?”

(Atsumu finds words for it, later. Well, Osamu does, and Atsumu doesn’t thank him for it. They start with the letter A and have purple and green -- not his favourite colours but he will own them. Atsumu will learn to let love go -- even though he never had it, not like that. He will learn that it’s still happiness even if he doesn’t have it.)

Osamu says it as if that was okay. Atsumu wants to be convinced about it, he tries to be.

When Nationals comes, he plays like there’s no tomorrow. Mainly because he still has no idea what life looks like when you don’t have a twin at your back, or in front of you, all the time. But also because it would be a shame to think about anything else than the game. Not when he’s in his best form, and Osamu is too. Not when he stands in front of the monsters who handed them their defeat last year. Not when there are rivals in front of him who are just begging to be defeated. Not when he has his spikers jumping for his tosses.

In the end, Kamomedai beats them in a prolonged deuce and Atsumu swears he won’t play on the same team as Hoshiumi until he defeats him first. Now that he thinks about it, he kind of wants to defeat a lot of other people too, all of them crazy good and interesting -- he’ll have his hands full. He’s glad he’s going pro after this. (Although picking a team will be rather hard if he wants to go by the same rules he applies to Hoshiumi.)

He’s still too high from the adrenaline to be sad about the end of high school volleyball. (“When you reach 80 years old… and have that confidence to say that you are happier than me… then that time, make fun of me.” “When you’re dead, I’ll tell you, ‘see, I was happier than you!’”) He points at Osamu and smirks.

“ _Now_ , you’re on.”

**Author's Note:**

> (I don't know if you've noticed but I have no idea how to write endings)  
> come find me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/3stike) or [tumblr](https://3stike.tumblr.com/)


End file.
